


Look After You

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: F/M, OC Fight Week 2018, OCfight2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-17 00:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13647156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: Branlin makes an offhand comment that leads to her staring down Lou, clutching her walking stick and ready to strike.





	Look After You

**Author's Note:**

> Moony was gracious enough to let me write for her precious Lou again. This time for oc fight week! Thank you so much!!

Branlin knows exactly how she got into this situation: she mentioned briefly to Lou that she felt bad about always running away while he jumps right into the thick of things.  It gets scary, watching someone that, y’know, you care about always getting whacked with swords (not that she said that part aloud).

“That’s not a problem, my dear!” Lou had proclaimed.  “You always carry that big stick.  If anyone comes near you, you just whack them very hard, and I will take care of the rest.”

“I’m a bit more concerned about if they swing  _ at  _ me,” Branlin had said.  “I don’t… really know what to  _ do _ , at least if I can’t cast thunderwave.”

It’s not often that she has to admit to ignorance.  

“Oh, darling, I had the best combat instructors and you are very, very smart.  I will teach you how to fight!”

And that’s how she ended up staring up at Lou, clenching a stick in her hands.  She had vetoed the notion of using her actual walking stick for practice- it’s precious to her- but there are plenty of sticks in the woods.  

“You’re sure about this?” Branlin asks.  

“This is a dull sword, so need to worry.  I would never harm you, my dear.  You have my word on that,” Lou says.  

“You’re not wearing your armor,” Branlin points out.

“I trust that you’ll be gentle as well,” Lou says, winking.  “Just remember what I taught you.”

They stare at each other for a long minute.  Branlin tries to keep stock still, despite her nervous energy.  A firm base.  Meanwhile, Lou is just… staring at her.  

“You have to attack first,” Branlin says.  “I mean, I’m not going to start charging in headfirst, no matter how much you teach me.”  

Lou clears his throat.  “Hm, right.”

Swinging his sword in a lazy circle, he steps forward.  Lou is moving much slower than he normally does in combat, which Branlin appreciates.  

This is normally the part when Branlin would either try to flee or shoot thunderwave to make him back off, but Branlin focuses instead on what Lou has taught her.  She’s gone through the motions dozens of times under Lou’s watchful gaze, so now it’s just a matter of putting it into practice.

Branlin brings her stick up to block Lou’s blow and then parries the way he taught her.  The contact isn’t quite as jarring as Branlin expected, which fills her with something resembling confidence.  

“Good job!” Lou says, grinning at her.

That helps, too.  

Lou gives her a few more easy deflections before picking up the pace just a bit.  He lands a couple soft strikes on her, always giving her a minute to confirm with him that she’s alright.  It’s sweet of him, and she even starts striking back at him every couple rounds.  

Branlin would check on him, too, except she doesn’t actually make contact, but that’s fine with her.  She’d rather that he not go easy on her just to give her false confidence.  

They keep at it for about half an hour, with Branlin very nearly scoring a couple hits.  She does start to tire, and Lou puts down his practice sword, beaming at her.

“You did remarkably well,” Lou says.  “Not that I’m surprised at your deft skill.”

Branlin grins, trying and failing not to pant to try to catch her breath.  “I didn’t actually hit you, you know.”

“Ah, but you came close, and this was only our first round of practice,” Lou says.  

“Good point,” Branlin says, dropping the stick on the ground and flopping beside it.  Her whole body feels like goo and she doesn’t think she has any bones left.  “You’re a good teacher, you know.”

“I know,” Lou says, laying down next to her.  “You’re not a bad pupil, yourself.”

Branlin laughs- she’s nothing if not a good student.  She turns herself over, slinging her arm over Lou’s body and pulling herself close.  He’s not nearly as sweaty and out of breath as she is, which makes him super comfortable for her achy body.  

“Mmmph, I’m not moving ever again,” Branlin proclaims.  “Hope you like it here.”

Lou wraps her up with one arm, using his other hand to stroke the planes of her face.  “Oh, my dear, just wait until tomorrow.  Not that I’m complaining.”

“Tomorrow?” Branlin asks weakly.

“Trust me, we’ve still got a lot of practicing to do!  To sharpen your skills under my excellent tutelage!” Lou says.  

Branlin murmurs something in vague agreement as she feels herself falling asleep.

* * *

Train they do!  Branlin is surprised at Lou’s discipline in the matter, but he makes sure they take some time each day to practice fighting.  He’s always the one that prods her to practice, never the other way around.  

Branlin starts to feel almost comfortable wielding the stick, even as Lou inches up the difficulty level.  She still doesn’t manage to actually land a hit, but she blocks more of Lou’s hits over time, which is progress, as is the fact that she can go longer each day.

“I’m sorry that you’re stuck with me to spar with,” Branlin says, curled up next to him after another round.  Somehow they always end up cuddled up like this after practice.  It’s her favorite part of martial combat.  “I know I can’t be much of a challenge.”

“Pardon, my dear?” Lou asks, sitting up abruptly.  

Branlin tumbles and her head ends up resting in his lap.  She looks up at him in confusion.  

“You know.” Branlin says.  “I’m getting better, but I’m still not  _ that  _ good with the quarterstaff.  I know I’m not much of a challenge to spar with.”

Lou pulls her so she’s sitting up, cupping her face between his hands.  He leans down so their faces are even and he looks at her with seriousness.  

“Branlin, darling, my technique is already impeccable.  You know this.  I don’t need to practice.  What I’m worried about is if you’re ever cornered, like you said,” Lou says.  “What if I’m not there to be your shield!  What if you can’t use thunderwave to knock them back!  What if-”

Lou is growing more agitated by the second, squeezing her face between his hands, so Branlin cuts him off by tapping his cheek gently before cupping it carefully.  He looks down at her, eyes suddenly wide.

“Hey, hey,” Branlin says, “everything’s okay.  I’m here and I’m safe and you’re teaching me to defend myself.”

Lou’s concerned frown melts into a soft smile.  He leans forward and presses a kiss to her forehead.  

* * *

After that little talk, Branlin redoubles her efforts because, well, how could she not?  They have plenty of time while they’re traveling anyway.  Branlin even takes to practicing on her own.  At least she can hit trees.

They’ve got a good back and forth going, one bright and sunny afternoon.  This has become more common, but never quite like this.  She feels in the zone, almost like she used to while researching.  

Lou slides forward to swing his sword at her, and she bats it away with a newfound ease.  With all the strength that she can muster, Branlin counters by swinging the stick at his side.

It connects with a thud that vibrates down the stick, and Lou grunts in surprise and pain.  

“Oh!  Shit!” Branlin says, dropping the stick and rushing forward.  She squeezes his shoulder as he doubles over in pain.  “Lou, I’m so sorry!”

“You are  _ strong _ ,” Lou says, voice hazy.  “Wow, I didn’t know you were  _ that _ strong.”

“I’m sorry!” Branlin repeats.  “I didn’t think I’d actually hit you!”

“My dear, that is the goal of combat,” Lou points out, sounding less winded.  “If I could make a suggestion, however?”

“Of course!” Branlin says, easing a little since he seems okay.  

“Please don’t drop your walking stick when you hit an enemy.  Hit them more, instead,” Lou says.  

Branlin laughs and kisses his cheek.  “I’ll keep that in mind, dear.  Now let me make sure your side is okay.”

“Ah, I see where you’re going with this,” Lou says, winking at her.  

“Yes… This has all been an elaborate trick to get your shirt off,” Branlin says, chuckling as she helps him with his shirt.  

“I  _ knew _ it,” Lou says.

Branlin presses her fingers against the rapidly bruising skin gingerly.  She looks up into his face to make sure that he’s not in too much pain.  

“I don’t think anything is broken?” Branlin says.  

“I’m fine.  I promise,” Lou says.  “Although… I should probably keep my shirt off, just in case.”

“You are so sneaky,” Branlin says.

“It’s one of my many incredible talents,” Lou says.

Branlin leans up to press a quick kiss to his cheek.  She tugs him gently to the ground, curling against him.

“Thank you for teaching me,” Branlin says.  

“I still hope that you don’t ever need to use it,” Lou says, “but I feel better now that you’ve smacked me with the stick.”

“I’ll try to stick to shooting frost and fireballs,” Branlin says.  

“D-d’you feel better?” Lou asks.  “About if you ever get cornered?  I know you were worried.”

Branlin’s lips curve upwards.  “Yeah, yeah I do.  I honestly didn’t have any clue what to do before, but I always have my walking stick, so now even if I’m cut off from magic- and you- I always have something to keep me safe.”

“Good.  I know that we both enjoy our adventurous lives, but it’s still… dangerous,” Lou says.  “I don’t want you to be afraid.”

Branlin nods a little, pressing her lips together.  Her heart beats just a little bit faster as she considers actually putting some words to her feelings.

“I get afraid when they swing at you, too,” Branlin says finally.  “I know that you can protect yourself and all, but you know.  You take an awful lot of hits, and that’s scary to think about.”

“My dear,” Lou’s voice is gentle, careful, like he’s considering his words, “I’m in full plate armor in combat, unlike someone else I could mention.”

“I know, I know!  It’s dumb-” Branlin is cut off as a sense of shame floods her body.

“I just want you to know that I’m well protected, even outside of my tremendous skill with many types of weapons,” Lou says.  “But I’d never think that you’re dumb; you’re just about the smartest person I know.”

Branlin smiles at Lou, shame dissipating in an instant.  “I guess what I’m trying to say, dear, is that I like you and care about you- a lot.  So even though I joke about you being my human shield, I do get scared when you get hit because if anything ever happened to you, I’d be so sad, Lou.  I don’t even like to think about it.”

“I understand,” Lou says, pressing his fingers against her chest. “When that jerk shot you with the arrow at point blank range, I didn't feel better until I had healed it and I knew you were going to be okay.”

Branlin presses her hand to his, making sure that he can feel her quickly beating heart.  

“I  _ also  _ didn't feel better until you had healed it,” Branlin says, very seriously.  

They look at each other for a moment, gentle smiles splitting wide until they’re both laughing.  It’s the kind of laugh that’s so deep and long that it hurts her stomach and her lungs, but it’s the best kind of pain, Branlin decides- yet another new experience since leaving her home.  

The laughter quiets slowly, until Branlin is leaning against Lou, who is curled around her.  His head rests right on the top of hers, arms holding her loosely but securely.  It’s starting to get dark, and the forest grows quiet in anticipation.  Sometimes it feels like they’re at the edge of all things, when it gets quiet like this.  

It should be a lonely feeling, but it’s not, not with Lou.  She hopes that he’s not lonely with her, either.  


End file.
